


Till Death

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:06:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They deserved the truth. Jack deserved the truth. But Eric had already made his decision.





	

**Author's Note:**

> TW: DEATH
> 
> It's not graphic or violent, honestly, it's really just sad. This is cross-posted from my CP tumblr, @baba-parson. Honestly, the whole thing made me cry at one point. It was kind of sort of based off a scene from the movie Horns, sort of, plus a prompt I saw.

No one was in the house when Eric collapsed.

The weakness in his knees was so sudden, and he remembered it from his younger days, when he played hockey in high school and hit his head too hard during a game once and couldn’t walk suddenly, his whole body numb. The doctors hadn’t known what it was affecting him until he’d had an MRI. His parents hadn’t even been able to tell him the truth, not until his father had tried to get him out of hockey, the only thing Eric had loved after he couldn’t figure skate anymore.

“Dammit, Eric!” Coach had shouted, frustrated. “I’m not letting you die on that ice!”

It was such a sudden outburst that it left Eric speechless. He didn’t know what his father could have possibly meant until Coach had sighed and sat down, patting the couch next to him. Eric had sat next to him, the tired look in Coach’s eye worrying.

And he was fifteen years old when he found out he was dying. There was something growing, in his brain, and it would likely kill him in just a few years. When he collapsed, it was because it had been aggravated. His body had gone numb, the tumor pushing against something in his skull that facilitated movement. It was all a lot of medical terms he could hardly follow but he hardly needed to because the only thing that stayed in his mind was the fact that he was dying.

And then there was chemo, and his parents trying to help him through the harder days, and his Moomaw telling him about his grandfather, who didn’t have the same opportunity to be saved, and his classmates sending him postcards and his homework and the jocks that shoved him into the supply closet dedicating games to him and his hockey team bringing him the trophy when they won.

And then one day the doctors told him he’d done it, that Eric Richard Bittle, during his senior year, had beaten it. He was gonna live and he was gonna go to college and have children some day and be able to tell them, “You can do anything. I beat cancer, you can do what you want.”

So when there was no one in the house when Eric collapsed, he panicked. He panicked because his body was numb and he knew this wasn’t good, oh god, he knew it wasn’t he knew this was bad he knew.

He had barely managed to call 911, to ask for help because he couldn’t get up and his body was almost completely numb. By the time the paramedics had arrived to strap him to a gurney, he was already crying, because he knew what this meant and he had to tell his parents and he had to tell his teammates and he had to tell his boyfriend. God what was he going to tell Jack?

His momma cried in the hospital room when he got the diagnosis.

“We can try chemotherapy again but there isn’t a guarantee it’ll work,” the Doctor had told them. “Ultimately, it’s Eric’s decision.”

And he had already decided.

When he got out of the hospital, he sent Jack a text message, asking if it would be possible for them to talk when Eric returned to Samwell. He had already called the admissions counselor and his advisor to tell them he was withdrawing from his classes and the last thing he needed to do was pack up his things in his room. He knew, deep down, that he needed to tell his teammates, to tell everyone the truth, that they  _ deserved _ the truth. But he didn’t want them to see him as some… sad charity case in his last months. He wanted them to remember him as strong.

The Haus was still empty when he went up. He had made sure it would be, going back before the New Year when he knew everyone would still be with their families or overseas celebrating. He used the kitchen, his momma and Coach up in his room packing his things for him, to bake a few more pies for his second family.

He wrote them a letter. Signed it, hid it somewhere they wouldn’t find it before he was gone. And he knew he would be gone when they found it. He didn’t want to go through chemo again. He didn’t want to have to see his parents trying to stay happy for him when he could just stop burdening them. He could be free of his illness and the world could be free of him.

It was hard to keep a straight face when he saw Jack.

His parents had already gone to the airport when Jack arrived, taking his things with them and granting him the privacy he had asked for. They trusted him to come behind after he had said his goodbye.

“Bittle,” Jack’s smile shattered Eric’s heart into millions of pieces, broken down into its base components of just pumping blood. He had loved Jack so much.

“Jack,” he tried to let the lift of his lips seem happy, but it was a lie Jack saw through easily, his own smile falling. Outside, the cab driver honked his horn, waiting for Eric.

“What’s wrong?” Jack stepped closer and Eric stepped back, as if Jack touching him would make him catch his disease. Jack stopped moving.

“We’re at this point, Jack,” Eric took in a deep, shuddering, breath, “where I can’t imagine life without you.”

Quick, like a bandaid, and the sting wouldn’t last for long.

“Bits?” Jack didn’t know what he could mean, Jack couldn’t fathom the weight of what Eric was about to say.

“But I need to know what that would be like. You’re the only person I’ve ever really dated, I have to experience other people.” Eric didn’t meet Jack’s eyes, lest Jack figure out Eric was lying, as if Jack would see the tumor growing through Eric’s eyes and know he was terrified, but preparing himself.

Jack couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find the words.

“Good bye, Jack.”

Those were his last three words to the man he loved. He didn’t say anything when Jack tried to ask what this was about, didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t speak another word. He simply let Jack talk at him, Eric’s mind already shut down. When he thought Jack was finished, he turned and walked away, out of the door of the Haus, into the cold Massachusetts winter. He got into his cab, and he didn’t look back.

It’s better like this, he told himself in his mind. The pain is only temporary. He’ll find someone knew to love, someone better, someone who isn’t dying.

It hurt to think of Jack falling in love with another person, it hurt to imagine some faceless soul that would gain the intense love and affection of Jack Zimmermann that burned hot like the sun and left them feeling like they had all the warmth in the world even on a dead cold night. It hurt, but Eric couldn’t put Jack through his death, not when his mother had told him how much it had hurt his Moomaw when his grandfather died. He couldn’t do that to Jack.

So he left Massachusetts. He went back to Georgia, he spent his last days with his parents, in a hospital room, preparing for the end he knew was coming.

He sent Jack a letter on his last day, and when he took his final breath, he imagined Jack holding his hand.

* * *

_ Dear Jack, _

_ When you get this letter, it’ll be February 14th, Valentine’s day. I had so many things planned for it, so much I wanted to do with you, so much I wanted you to do with me. I had recipes put away for us to try and a night you would never forget planned. And now all you’ll have off me on this day is this news. _

_ When you get this letter, Jack, I’ll be gone. The funeral will take place two weeks after my death and my parents will need all the support they can get. I know our last day together was probably the worst, but all I can ask you is to please stand by them. That’s all I ask. I know you don’t owe me anything, but it would mean so much to them if you could. _

_ I know I never said it, but I loved you, Jack. I loved you more than anything else in the world and I wanted us to grow old and to have children of our own. I wanted so much. _

_ But now we won’t get that. You deserve that, but I won’t be there to have it with you. I’m so sorry. _

_ I love you. _

_ Bitty _

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Comments? Concerns?
> 
> ~Piehead


End file.
